


The Neko Atsume fic

by consultingasshat



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neko Atsume - Freeform, and it's dumb, its just cats, there are cats, theres not even relationship stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingasshat/pseuds/consultingasshat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock likes Neko Atsume. John does't pay enough attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Neko Atsume fic

**Author's Note:**

> This is dumb and was written for the flash fic thing I'm doing on my tumblr. discotechjuliets said "I want a story about Sherlock's Neko Atsume addiction" and this fic was born

John leaned his head against the cab window, heaving out a sigh as he watched the city lights flash by. It had been a long day and an even longer case, and he was ready to get back to Baker Street and collapse into bed.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was wired. His usual post-case crash hadn’t hit him yet, and John could see him practically vibrating on the other end of the seat. John just hoped it would wear off soon, though right then he could’ve slept through whatever kind of small bomb Sherlock thought was appropriate to set off in the kitchen. 

John startled as Sherlock leaned over to John’s side of the cab rather quickly and shoved his phone in his face. John blinked at the bright light of the screen as Sherlock said “Look, John I found this really interesting game. You buy them furniture, and they come visit, and…”

“That’s nice Sherlock, that’s nice, but can you please move your phone screen as I don’t think I’ll be able to see for a few days.” 

Sherlock huffed and retreated to his side of the cab, still engrossed in whatever he was looking at on his phone.

John glanced over again, saw the manic glint in Sherlock’s eyes illuminated by his insanely bright phone screen (he was still blinking away spots), and prepared himself for a long night.

 

~

 

_ Crash.  _

“Joooooohn.”

John blinked open his eyes, his brain still muddled by sleep. What time was it?

“JOOOOOOOOHN.”

Oh. Sherlock time.

He made his way out of bed, glancing at the clock for the  _ actual  _ time. 4:30 am. Jesus. John closed his eyes again, willing the loud, obnoxious voice coming from downstairs to be a figment of his imagination.

“JOHN.”

Damn.

“Coming, Sherlock. Could you need me at, I don’t know, NOT 4:30 in the fucking morning?” John called down the stairs, knowing Sherlock heard him by the indignant huff that followed his words. John made his way down the stairs as slowly as possible, anticipating what Sherlock needed him for. What if he was glued to the floor again, like that one memorable occasion after the Johnsten murders? Or maybe he was hungry? Not likely. John rubbed his hand over his face, stepped into the living room, and almost died. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw in the living room. The reason of his near-death was the fact that he had almost stepped on a black and white spotted cat that looked like it would definitely try to rip his foot off if he hadn’t caught himself with the stair banister. John glanced around with growing alarm, taking in the sight of cats (there was so many cats), various cat toys and climbing structures, and in the middle of it all Sherlock, covered in cat hair and scratches and wearing the most adorable pouting face John had ever seen.

_ Oh my fucking God. _

John noticed Sherlock’s whining noises, which were obviously due to the fact that a cat wearing a cowboy hat (what was that all about?) was attempting to crawl up his body. Using claws. “John, it would be very, ah, beneficial if you helped me get rid of these cats. Right now.” Sherlock’s voice was panicked, and there were now two cats crawling on him, and the whole flat looked like a fucking cat cafe, and John just couldn’t help it anymore. 

He burst out laughing. Huge belly laughs that turned into giggles that turned back into loud, barking laughter when he saw the look on Sherlock’s face, which had turned into a deeper pout. 

“You… you…” he wheezed out. “You turn our flat… into a fucking cat rescue center… in the middle… of the night… with no explanation… Jesus Christ!”

Sherlock looked pouty  _ and  _ pissed now, his brows knitting together. “Well if YOU had just payed attention when I tried to show you Neko Atsume, this wouldn’t have happened!” He shot out, startling about five cats in his near vicinity.

“Oh, so this is my fault now? I didn’t ask you to bring hundreds of cats into our flat to show me whatever the hell Neko Atsume is!”

“There’s only 48 cats! And as I was TRYING to tell you before, it’s an app where you buy the cats furniture and they visit you and rare cats come and it’s very engaging! But since you didn’t listen I thought it would be helpful to show you in real life how fun the game is, but that didn’t- AGH!”

Cowboy Cat had apparently reached Sherlock’s shoulder and had swiped his claws at the rapidly moving mouth in front of him. Sherlock reared his head back and pressed his hands to the shallow cuts now present on his lips, and John finally started to feel sympathy for the madman. He heaved a deep sigh and started picking up cat toys.

“Where did you even get all of these cats, anyways?”

 

~

 

After returning all 48 cats to their various owners and putting all of the cat supplies in a box to donate to the pet shelter, John was exhausted (again). Sherlock finally looked tired too, only pulling away a little bit and blinking sleepily as John dabbed disinfectant on his many cat-inflicted wounds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were talking about your cat game, but you could’ve just showed me again in the morning without, you know, sneaking into people’s houses and taking their cats, Sherlock.”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?”

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock huffed out a sigh. “ _ Fine,  _ John, I’m sorry I brought 48 cats into the flat and accidentally fed them expired chicken from the freezer and that Tubbs peed on your favorite jumper.”

“Excuse me?”

Sherlock simply grinned and looked down at his phone, tapping the Neko Atsume icon as he whirled out of the room.

 


End file.
